


things you said

by ag_sasami



Series: WIP Amnesty [4]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Break Up Talk, Found Family, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Public Hand Jobs, WIP Amnesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:28:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22204120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ag_sasami/pseuds/ag_sasami
Summary: In which Yuusaku's relationships are rather like a revolving door.
Relationships: Fujiki Yuusaku/Homura Takeru, Fujiki Yuusaku/Revolver | Kougami Ryouken
Series: WIP Amnesty [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597828
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	things you said

**Author's Note:**

> [This prompt list](https://zolotayafeya.tumblr.com/post/167290448642/prompts-1-things-you-said-at-1-am-2-things), partially completed. Mostly chronological with some handwaving about the timeline.

_**things you always meant to say but never got the chance** _

He stares out at the water—Ryouken’s boat fading on the horizon—despairs. Says to the retreating silhouette, “All these years, I just wanted to know you.”

  


_**things you said but not out loud** _

Takeru watches him, heart in his throat and limbs on fire with anxiety. Flame mocks him, bemoans how timid his partner has become without wearing Soulburner’s face. He watches the awkward way Yuusaku’s classmates circle him. Wary. Eager. Watching the disaffected way Yuusaku lets the them pass without notice makes Takeru bold. He wants into the berth everyone else has left around Yuusaku like a moat. _I want him to let me in_ , is what he thinks.

“ _He’s_ really fucked up too, Flame.”

“Does this mean you’re done pining?”

“That’s so unnecessary.” Head ducked with a sheepish pause. “Yes.”

  


_**things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear** _

“There are three reasons why you should give up on this.”

“How about three reasons I won’t.”

A laugh, shoulders shaking and silver hair catching moonlight. Distance closed until Takeru can’t see the space between them unless he moves. He shouldn’t. He does anyway.

“One. You’ve held me to a standard that isn’t real.”

“One. You saved my life. It doesn’t matter how much has changed.”

“Two. Your Ignis makes us enemies.”

“Two. I haven’t given up on saving you from the path you’re on.”

“Three—”

“Three," Yuusaku cuts him off. "I _don’t care_ if you think I’m your enemy.” 

Hands cradling Yuusaku’s jaw. “Three.” Yuusaku’s hand wrapped around Ryouken’s—around _Revolver’s_ wrist. “I’m going to ruin you,” murmured against Yuusaku’s lips.

  


**things you said I wouldn’t understand / things you said that made me feel like shit**

“Yuusaku! He’s a terrorist.” Takeru hides his fury behind the guise of being reasonable, entreating. Still, Yuusaku sees through it and recognizes those caustic feelings like an echo.

“He’s the reason I’m still alive.”

  


_**things you said that I wish you hadn’t** _

“So you and Revolv— Ryouken. Are you…”

“I guess. I’m not really sure what it is yet.”

  


_**things you said with clenched fists** _

Split lip. Knuckles bruised. Takeru spits blood and runs the back of his hand over his mouth, wills himself not to wince at the sting. 

“You must not have heard me the first time, so let me make this real clear.” His voice could belong to a stranger for how foreign it sounds to Yuusaku’s ears. Too cold (threatening) to be Takeru. Yet there are the words are growled out from his bleeding mouth, “Come anywhere near us again and you’re going to find out what your teeth taste like on the way down.”

After, it’s Takeru who breaks the heavy silence. From the back of Cafe Nagi Yuusaku emerges with a bag of ice wrapped in a towel, offering it to Takeru without comment. With no one around to save face for, Takeru hisses at the sting of cold on his torn skin. “So were you planning on asking?” he doesn’t waste time avoiding it.

“You didn’t seem to be in the mood for using your words,” Yuusaku replies wryly.

For the sake of his swelling lip, Takeru closes his eyes and suppresses the smile starting to turn up the corners of his mouth. “Fair.” The silence holds a bit longer, but for the sound of ice shuffling, melting, under Takeru’s fingers.

“So. Is that what your life was like before you came to Den City?”

“Something like that.” He takes a moment to stall—reshuffle the ice, change hands, press it a little harder to his mouth. It muffles the words when Takeru continues on with, “skip school, fuck, and fight…” like he’s talking to himself. Staring into the middle distance. There’s nothing to say to that. Yuusaku takes a long drink through his straw, eyebrows raised, until he hits the bottom with a dissonant sucking noise. Takeru sets down the makeshift ice pack and catches his eye. Holds his gaze. Says quietly, decisive, “I really hate that version of me.”

  


_**things you said at 1 am** _

“He’s gone again.”

“Why?”

“I wish I knew.”

  


**things you said when you were drunk / things you said under the stars and in the grass**

Kusanagi is indulgent. Takeru thinks Yuusaku—no, both of them—are serving as insufficient surrogates for his lost brother. Ai makes the occasional lude remark that Yuusaku pointedly ignores, but the color that rises in his cheeks makes Takeru wonder. Idly.

Yuusaku doesn’t drink, but Takeru takes Kusanagi up on his offer this particular evening. His mind is white noise, anxious and racing with pent up energy, thoughts sparking without an outlet. He takes his leave, Kusanagi waving him off when he apologizes for his rudeness. Yuusaku gives him an unusually blank look.

Takeru wanders aimlessly, slowly, taking in the star-pocked darkness until his eyes adjust. He’s staring skyward, the dregs of his drink weighing down the can hanging loose in his fingers. Yuusaku joins him eventually—long after Takeru’s view of the sky blurs from the alcohol in his brain—takes the can from his hand and settles down in the grass beside his ankles. The silence is palpable when he speaks.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” Takeru replies honestly. “The sky is pretty tonight.”

Yuusaku hums noncommittally. “You’d love Stardust Road.” Takeru smiles to himself in the dark, joins Yuusaku in the grass, settling his neck across the curve of Yuusaku’s thigh without permission. He tenses like a reflex before resting his hand at Takeru’s hairline.

“Take me there sometime.”

“Yeah, sure.” From anyone else it would be dismissive, but Yuusaku says it soft and warm, begins carding his fingers through Takeru’s hair. In the starlight Takeru is still mostly blind, but he can make out the smudged liner around Yuusaku’s eyes, the heavy sweep of his lashes each time he blinks. He shifts, wiggles a bit to change the angle of his head, rests his palms flat across his stomach like it will stop the butterflies from escaping with his words.

“Yuusaku?”

“Hm?”

“You’re really pretty.” Yuusaku snorts, but Takeru thinks he can make out the edges of a smile in the faint night glow.

“You’re drunk.” Matter of fact. But Yuusaku doesn’t stop, just pushes Takeru’s hair back off his forehead and rakes blunt nails idly against his scalp.

“Maybe a little. It’s still true,” he insists—weakly. They watch the sky in companionable silence, Yuusaku’s fingers soft through his hair. His heart hammers in his chest. “I don’t know when you let me get so close, but I want to stay.”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

  


_**things you said after it was over** _

Arms thrown around Yuusaku’s neck, Takeru’s face pressed against his own. The fabric of Takeru’s blazer bunches beneath Yuusaku’s fingers, as though his ferocious grip could stop the shaking in his arms.

“I was sure I’d lost you too.”

  


_**things you said on the phone at 4 am** _

Voice shaky and rough with sleep, with fear. “I need you.” 

“What’s wrong?”

“Can you just keep talking? Please. I don’t want to fall asleep again.”

  


**_things you said sitting still_ **

“My grandparents called me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, they want me to come back since school is out.”

“Are you going?”

“I think so. It would be nice to see them. Plus, Kiku’s been asking me to visit for months.” Yuusaku sits dumbstruck, Takeru’s voice fading behind the white noise buzzing in his brain. _This is how it ends_ , he thinks. “You know. My grandparents were really frustrated with me before I left, and I want them to see... I think they’ll be proud of who I’ve become.”

“Of course they will.” Takeru’s stomach twists when he meets Yuusaku’s eyes, soft, fond. 

  


_**things you said with too many miles between us / things you said over the phone** _

Summer creeps toward its end. The school year looms and Takeru hasn’t returned.

“Are you coming home?”

“I _am_ home.”

“...I meant here.” _I meant me_.

“Yuusaku… I don’t know.”

  


_**things you said when I was crying** _

“It’s a little lonely with Flame gone. Did Ai ever…”

“No. Roboppi is gone too. I don’t think they’re coming back.”

“Yuusaku, _I’m_ not coming back.”

“Ah.” Stinging eyes.

“I can’t. There’s too much in my life here I need to fix still, for me but also for my grandparents.”

“Okay. Take care of yourself, Takeru.” Somehow, by some uncomfortable miracle, he manages to hold his voice mostly steady. 

Silence on the line. When Takeru does speak he sounds like he’s hurting. “It sounds so final when you say it like that.”

_Isn’t it though?_

  


_**things you said when we first met** _

“What can I get you?” Tending to the grill, not bothering to look up.

“Just a cup of coffee, please. I don’t see Kusanagi around and I still don’t trust your hot dogs.”

The sound of tongs hitting the floor echoes through the truck. Yuusaku: wide-eyed and mouth slack. “I—” he swallows thickly, “thought you weren’t coming ho— back to Den City.”

“My therapist said I was experiencing ‘failure to thrive.’” He uses air quotes around it. “She told my grandparents that coming back would probably be good for me.”

  


_**things you said before you kissed me** _

“Do you ever wish you’d stayed with your grandparents?” Stardust Road is glowing, stretched out before them to some distant horizon. 

“And not come back?” Takeru’s glasses are reflecting the blue light of a billion sea creatures like starlight and it’s obscuring his eyes from Yuusaku’s view, making his expression unreadable.

“No, I mean never moving to Den City, in the first place?” 

“Never. I wasn’t alive there.” He isn’t arrogant enough to think that’s all his doing, but Yuusaku still hears, ‘I wasn’t alive before you,’ between the lines. He turns from the railing and rests his hand against the small of Takeru’s back.

“You make me feel awake again,” he replies, baldly. Factual. Irrefutable as he presses in close to the warmth radiating off Takeru like a furnace. “Like I’m experiencing the things happening around me instead of just watching.” He reintroduces their lips at a languid pace, as if evidence to his point, Takeru opening to meet him.

“Everything in my life was disconnected motion and purpose and steps toward revenge. But after? This stasis I’ve been in, that’s not a life. Not really.” 

“It’s not like you’ve been alone this whole time.”

“No,” he agrees. “Kusanagi has been with me every step of the way and that’s maybe why I’m never _lost_. But that’s not the same as living.”

“I know.” 

  


_**things you said in the back seat of a ~~cab~~ train** _

The brush of Yuusaku’s hand on Takeru’s thigh is higher than strictly necessary. Feather light and maddening. And higher and higher and, “You know these seats aren’t private, right?”

“I do,” Yuusaku whispers back. Fingers brushed up the zipper like an intention, except he doesn’t follow through. Takeru digs his fingers into the seat; shudders as Yuusaku works his hand down beneath his waistband. Hand inching _downdowndown_ Until he catches Takeru’s head with a flick of seeking fingertips. Until he can run his thumb in slow circles over him through the fabric of his underwear. Until he’s hard enough Yuusaku can reach more of his dick without having to change his already awkward angle. 

More smooth pressure than an actual stroke. It’s just enough stimulation to get him worked up and not nearly enough to be satisfying. If Yuusaku would bypass all of his clothing, touch him properly, it would help. Maybe.

“Because this seems like something—” A hitched breath. Yuusaku’s thumb pressing against his slit. “ _Not_ public.” He’s trying to keep his breathing steady and his face even half as neutral as Yuusaku’s. The reflection off the window tells Takeru just how badly he’s failing that mission. 

“That’s a good point.” Innocent like the thought had just dawned on him. As Yuusaku slowly—intentionally, with as much contact as he can maintain, for as long as he can—withdraws his hand Takeru bites down harder on his lip to cut off the groan rumbling in the back of his throat. For good measure, Yuusaku traces the length of him from tip to hilt and back again. It only makes it more obvious how hard he is. The killing blow is Yuusaku leaning over heavily into him, smoothing down the front of Takeru’s pants as he whispers hot against his ear, “We should probably wait then.”

  


_**things you said with no space between us** _

He breathes “Takeru” on the front end of a moan, voice strained and thin. 

“What do you want?”

“Everything? I don’t know.” He groans low in the back of his throat. “Harder though.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it.”

“Yuusaku.”

  


_**things you said in the dark** _

Yuusaku’s legs shake from the effort of meeting Takeru’s pace, splayed out over his lap. Nails in Takeru’s shoulders. Head tossed back panting out Takeru’s name. Takeru winds his arms around and up his back; gets a tight grip in Yuusaku’s hair and holds him there. It tears a helpless sound out of him and Takeru murmurs, “Come for me,” before licking at the dip of Yuusaku’s throat. He feels the broken moan through Yuusaku’s bones as Yuusaku’s orgasm rips through him: pressing back on his heels, back arched, Takeru fully buried in his body.

  


_**things you said with my lips on your neck** _

Gathering up his deck, tablet, Yuusaku moves slower than usual. Obvious fatigue beyond the point of hiding.

“You could...stay?”

“I need to help Kusanagi tonight.”

“You’ve barely slept this week.”

“I’ve had enough to get by.”

Takeru crowds Yuusaku against the back of the chair, wraps an arm around his waist and slides his hand across his stomach. Moving Yuusaku’s collar back he brushes his lips across bare skin; presses slow kisses into his neck, Yuusaku tilting his head to accommodate the path of Takeru’s mouth. “Stay, Yuusaku. Let me take care of you for once.”

  


_**things you said through your teeth** _

The coffee cup in his hands nearly spills with the shocked way Takeru jerks his hands. White hair soft in the light, private smile turned up at Yuusaku behind the grill. He tries not to shake. Tries not to let the insecurity creep up under his skin. Even after all these months of forging themselves into something on solid ground, Ryouken is a threat. Takeru doesn’t want to be that petty, really; but Yuusaku never would have trusted Takeru with his heart if Ryouken had stayed, and Flame isn’t here to talk him down from the proverbial ledge.

Later, Yuusaku touches him carefully, fingers brushed against his sleeve. “Takeru,” he murmurs.

“Just. Do what you have to do Yuusaku,” he snarls. Lashes out uncharacteristically. It’s been so long since his fire was anger, and the resentment—for Ryouken or Yuusaku, he’s not sure just yet—feels just as sharply hot. “If nothing has changed for him, I think we both know how this plays out.”


End file.
